


Help You

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 2017 Louden Swain SPN Mini Bang, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 11:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11600136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: Summary: The loss of Dean is hard on Sam and Castiel just wants to help.  (Set between 9.23, “Do You Believe in Miracles”, and 10.01, “Black)Prompt: “Help You” by Louden Swain for @mrswhozeewhatsis‘s Louden Swain Mini Bang





	Help You

Sam is a mess.

Granted, Castiel isn’t fairing much better, but he is still the most stable of the pair. He’s never heard his lover like this before- the younger Winchester is obsessive, almost to the point of insanity. Cas was aware of the bond between the Winchesters, courtesy of the years he’s spent by their side, as a guardian, and as a friend, but he has never experienced the effects this kind of loss can have first hand. It’s frightening, the way Sam talks. Cas isn’t even sure if the man is sleeping or eating, he’s so engrossed in his search for Dean.

Why Crowley would take Dean’s body, neither of them know, but the King of Hell rarely has a good reason for his choices and Cas feels sick when he thinks of the possibilities. He doesn’t think he wants to find Dean, but he promised he would help Sam, and he intends to keep that promise. He has failed the Winchesters too many times to not help now.

Sam is rambling on the other end of the phone- something about summoning spells that Cas is too tired to follow. He rubs his eyes and pulls the blanket tighter around him. Today is a cold day, where nothing he does warms the chill in his bones.

“Sam,” he says, cutting the man off. “When was the last time you ate? Or slept?”

“Cas, babe, that’s not important right now. I have to translate these pages from-”

“Sam.” His tone leaves no room for argument and effectively silences his lover. “Eat something and go to bed. You’re no use to Dean if you work yourself to death.”

He can hear all of Sam’s frustration and exhaustion in his sigh. “You’re right,” Sam admits, defeat obvious on his voice. “I don’t know if I have anything edible in the kitchen. I haven’t really… been in there.”

Cas understands. The kitchen was Dean’s place, where he experimented in crafting home cooked meals for his little brother and was picky about how groceries were put away. Being there without Dean must feel awful.

“If there’s nothing to eat, go to bed first and get groceries in the morning.” Cas glances at his clock and does some quick math. It’s almost midnight in the bunker. “Most stores are probably closed and you’re not fit to be driving anywhere.”

Sam sounds like a chastised child. “Okay, Cas.”

“Send me those pages and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Cas, you’re still sick-”

“I can translate some pages, Sam. It will give me something to do and I’ll feel like I’m contributing to the search. Please?”

“Alright, I’ll send them and go to bed.”

“Thank you. Good night, Sam. I love you.”

“Love you, too, Cas.”

Too tired to put his phone on the nightstand, Cas drops it onto the pillow by his head. It buzzes a few minutes later to announce the arrival of an email with attached images of pages written in what looks like a Celtic dialect at first glance. He downloads the images to work on later, after a nap to restore his energy.

He’s just drifting off when his phone buzzes again. Groaning, he fumbles around for it and blinks in the bright light of the screen. It’s a text from Sam, with an image attached. He taps the picture to make it bigger and laughs softly to himself when he see a dark selfie of Sam in his bed.

I’m in bed. Happy now? The message reads.

Yes, now go to sleep, he replies.

There’s no response, but Cas isn’t surprised. He drops his phone once more and pulls his blankets up to his chin. Hopefully the pages will hold something useful; he hates not having anything helpful to give Sam.

* * *

The pages don’t have anything that can help them find Dean or Crowley. Sam tries to keep a level tone, but Cas knows he’s frustrated. They’ve exhausted most of their resources and the longer Dean is gone, the lower their odds of finding him. After almost a month of searching, Cas is beginning to feel discouraged and Sam is not fairing much better. Cas can hear it in the hunter’s voice during their regular phone conversations. Sam is reaching the end of his rope, becoming desperate in a way that has Cas extremely concerned. When Sam brings him groceries after an uneventful trip to a white witch a few states over, Cas decides to confront him.

“Sam, you need a break,” Cas sighs, watching from his place on the lumpy motel couch as Sam puts the groceries away- one handed since he injured his elbow the week before in a skirmish with a demon.

“I’m fine, Cas.”

“No, you’re not. I miss him, too, Sam, but you’re no good to anyone if you work yourself to an early grave.” He pats the couch next to him. “Sit. Talk to me.”

Sam sets the last can of soup down a little more forcefully than is strictly necessary. “I said I’m fine.”

“Samuel Winchester, I have not kissed the love of my life in three months. You are going to sit next to me on this couch. We’re going to talk and watch a movie, and then maybe sleep in the same bed for once. Got it?”

Sam looks like he wants to protest, he loves Cas, but his brother is still fucking gone and he doesn’t have time for this shit. At the thought, he sees Cas’ point, his shoulders slumping a little as he makes his way over to the couch. He sits almost awkwardly next to Cas, body stiff until the angel grabs the shoulder of his shirt and tugs him closer. After a moment, Sam melts into the arms of his lover.

“‘M sorry, Cas,” he murmurs, turning his head to press his face into Cas’ shoulder.

“It’s okay, Sam. I know you want your brother back, and I promised I would help you, but we have to take care of you as well, and I can’t do that if you won’t let me.”

Sam nods, while Cas rubs at his back and shoulders. His injured arm is tucked neatly between their bodies, his good arm looping around Cas’ waist. It’s an slightly awkward position, with their size difference and all, but Sam folds himself into Cas’ embrace regardless “Talk to me, Sam,” Cas says quietly.

“I just… what if we never find him?”

“We’ll find him.”

“But what if we never do?” Sam’s voice is frantic, tone echoing the fear in his eyes. “ I don’t know what I would do. I don’t know how to live without Dean.”

“I pray you never have to learn,” Cas sighs, pressing a kiss to Sam’s forehead.

“And you… you’re not okay, Cas. You’re really sick and I don’t know how to help you, and I don’t know what I would do without you.” He curls his fingers into Cas’ shirt. “You and Dean, you’re all I have.”

“I won’t leave you, Sam, I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.”

He grabs Sam’s face in his hands and presses a firm kiss to his lips before pulling back a little. Wide hazel eyes meet blue. “I just did.”


End file.
